


The Awakening

by ordika



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fluffy Ending, M/M, i hope i got the characters right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5554001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordika/pseuds/ordika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn finally wakes up, only to find out that Rey is on holiday with Luke Skywalker and Poe is away on a mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Awakening

When Finn woke up, he was confused, lost and alone.

Memories were chasing each other around in his head, but he could find no order in them. There were some faces he could see so clearly as though they were standing in front him, just an arm’s reach away. That made him think that he had seen them once that close. But when? And who were they?

Explosions. A desert planet, and one so awfully green it almost hurt to look at it. His own fellow troopers shooting at him. And… him shooting back. The Resistance. He met the Resistance!

He opened his eyes, seeing only white at first, but then a room materialized. Someone was standing next to him, talking, but all he could hear was the beating of his own heart.

„… back. You’ve been asleep for 5 weeks. Your vitals are normal, but your spine was severely damaged. You won’t be able to walk for a few days. Your memory might be a bit off as well. Can you talk?”

He swallowed. His throat was perched. „I think so.” His voice was a barely audible squeak.

„Can you remember your name?”

„Eff…” he began, but then he heard a distinct voice in his mind.

_„I’m gonna call you Finn, is that alright?”_

The best damn pilot in the universe.

„Finn.”

 

The nurse left a while after, leaving Finn to rest. She’d told him that Rey had gone to find Luke Skywalker and was at present sharing his company. Poe had gone on a mission. „There’s only so long the Resistance can spare their best pilot,” she’d said.

The feeling of loneliness came back, and he couldn’t get it to leave. As a stormtrooper, such things didn’t bother him, but now he was finally someone. He had a name. Finn. He liked it.

He finally liked his options in life.

But he was so weak that he couldn’t get up and he had no friends within at least 10 parsecs. Moving on would be really hard.

Memories stormed him again and he almost fainted from the intensity of it. He started panting and frantically looking around the room, searching for something to hold onto. And that’s when he saw it.

It was neatly folded on the lone chair next to his bed, with a scrap of flimsy on it.

Who still uses that anyway? flew through his head, but his attention shifted to the battered piece of clothing that lay underneath. Moving wasn’t really an option, he knew, but he had to get to it. He had no idea what he wanted to do with it, but he needed it just to make sure that what – who – he was remembering was indeed real, that all those things happened.

He shifted to his hide, pain almost immediately shooting through his back. It was sharp, but not unbearable. Not yet. He reached out with an arm and grabbed the jacket and the flimsy, then with a relieved sigh turned onto his back.

_I know, I’m not much with a needle, but even I can’t be good at everyhing, right? Sorry I’m not there when you wake up – Poe_

 

The mission’s been one hell of a nightmare. It was supposed to last only a few days, a simple recon in the Outer Rim but of course the damned First Order had to be there as well, prolonging it unnecessarily. It was even worse because he couldn’t stop thinking about Finn for 2 minutes. He felt awful for leaving him alone like that,  but he understood that he had to do something. He was a commander and he had a duty. Though at times like this, he hated it. For almost 5 weeks he spent every spare minute he had at Finn’s bedside, staring at him, willing him to wake up. He never did.

After a while, he stopped going there. It only made him feel worse. Seeing that man, that absolutely gorgeous and kind man lying there unconscious, because of _him,_ was something he couldn’t take. He blamed himself. And why shouldn’t he? He was the one that lef him alone on Jakku, and then let him go into that base unprepared. What was he thinking?

Losing him once was bad enough. Twice? Unbearable. And watching him sleep, just sleep without an end in sight, was just that.

Sometimes when he was alone, he just lost it. Apply too much pressure and the person will break. So he did. But he was Poe Dameron. He was the best pilot in the Resistance. A commander. Finn’s friend. People needed him. So he picked himself up every time. He just had to punch something first.

His guilt and worry wouldn’t leave him. He’d had to do something. So he decided to sew up the jacket he gave Finn (or Finn took, that’s just a matter of perspective). He knew it wasn’t much, but at least it was something. He’d wanted to give it back to Finn himself, but he had to leave. So he’d left it on his chair, should Finn wake up. In a way, he hoped he wouldn’t. But he also did. Also, he hated himself for it.

They were cleared to go back to base on their ninth day. His nerves were all blown up by that time. No news on Finn. Or Rey. Or anything, really.

He was eager to get back.

 

It took Finn two days just to stand. The nurse, Corsé, helped him a great deal, even though she had other patients as well. (“Not ones with lightsaber wounds, that’s pretty unique. You’re lucky to be alive.”) But when the inevitable questions, such as, how long will it take for him to _actually_ walk, remained unanswered. The Resistance – or any other – doctors had no experience when it came to such injuries.

But he could walk. On the third day, he walked around the room (then collapsed breathless on the bed, but that’s neither here nor there). The day after that, he went out into the corridor. He made it so far as the first chair that crossed his way, but gladly no one was around, so 20 minutes later he could make his way back into his room, unaided.

On Corsé’s urging he went out to have some fresh air sometime later. The only reason he agreed to it was that he got to wear Poe’s jacket.

 _My_ jacket, he corrected himself. But he couldn’t stop thinking about his pilot. _The_ pilot, he corrected himself again. He thought of Rey often, too, but it seemed like nothing compared to the amount of time he spent pondering Poe’s actions, whereabouts, or simply remembering his smile.

To his defense, all he had was time.Time spent in his bed, resting (mandatory 4 hours every day). Time spent, again in his bed, trying to escape the nightmares. Time spent sitting somewhere, trying to forget the pain. Time spent alone in his room, with nothing to do.

His memory was working again, and he remembered everything – maybe even a bit too vividly. The shooting on Jakku. The screams. The burned TIE-fighter. The beasts on Solo’s freighter. Rey being taken. Solo dying. Actually dying. And then… Kylo Ren.

From his days as a stormtrooper (practically his entire life) he knew a thing or two about the guy. Tall. Black. Scary. What he didn’t know was that he was so young. Or so powerful. Or quite so scary.

What he also didn’t know was that he’d one day have the courage to face him. And walk away alive. (Thanks to Rey.)

He missed her. He missed him. He missed being important to someone, even a little. It’s what gave him strength. Friends. And the love he felt for him. Them, he corrected himself again.

As the days passed, and he was finally able to stay on his feet for over an hour (something he’d never even had to do before), he found himself wanting more and more to see that smirk on Poe’s face. Or that cute little way he bites his lip…

Which, he knew, was totally insane and unreasonable. He didn’t even know the guy that well. Or at all. And besides, he was a fly guy. The best pilot the world had to offer with a face you weren’t likely to forget because you just couldn’t take your eyes off of it. No way in any galaxy would that guy even consider him as someone… well, romantically.

But even though, he owed him so much. Not just the jacket. Or getting him away from the First Order. In a way, he owed him his new personality. His only personality. His name.

What did he have to offer in return? Other than himself?

 

Poe slept on the flight back. He was proud to admit it. He was a good enough pilot to fall asleep in his cockpit, knowing he’d wake up – or be woken up by BB-8 – if there was any trouble. But he was the best, so there weren’t any.

He finally got some much needed rest, and a good reason to run off his comm. He wanted to be left alone. He got that, and he was happy. After all, he was a simple man.

Coming back to the base was a bit like coming home, but no planet could ever compete with Yavin, not for him. It was the Resistance he liked returning to. But now he had another reason as well.

He couldn’t wait to see Finn, to hold his hand. He hadn’t done that in a while, but he wanted to. While he still could.

He climbed out of his cockpit, feeling relieved to have the opportunity to stretch his limbs. BB-8 bleeped at him.

“Yeah, sure do buddy. Don’t let me keep you.”

And off the droid went. Rolled. As usual, he followed him with his eyes.

But this time, he couldn’t really believe them. That man over there… in that jacket… that man, that looked… he looked just like…

“Finn?” he whispered to himself. It couldn’t be.

And yet, the man was waving at him, his broad smile visible through all the distance.

“Finn!”

This time, it was a shout.

He started running, as fast as he could. He literally didn’t give a shit what others thought, that man deserved it. Evidently, he’d left him alone long enough.

Finn was running too. It was a bit awkward and it was obvious that he wasn’t fully recovered, but it didn’t seem to bother him either.

And so they ran. Straight into each other’s arms. _Again_ , ran through Poe’s head.

But this time, he didn’t let go so fast. He didn’t mean to do so at all. Finn was up and walking, he was alive and he was going to be well. He was in his arms, right where he should be. He was hugging him tightly as well. It was a perfect – and perfectly unexpected – surprise.

He was wearing the jacket. His only piece of clothing that wasn’t utterly destroyed – or thrown away by the Resistance.

I gave him something as well, Poe thought.

He let go and took Finn’s head in his hands.

“By all he stars, you heal fast,” he remarked, trying to sound funny.

Finn smiled at that. Just a little. It was a scared, careful smile. One that didn’t know what was coming, but knew that something definitely was. His gaze was hopeful, and so pure, and so _brown_ Poe almost melted on the spot. He touched the pilot’s face with a hand.

“Not that hard when you have the right motivation.”

Poe took that as an alternative to _just kiss me already_ , and did so. Turns out, he was right.

Finn kissed him back almost immediately, running his hands through Poe’s hair, gripping slightly. Those lips… The kiss was passionate at first, but then it turned gentle, just like their feelings: the initial surprise that the other was feeling the same, then actually feeling it. Savoring it.

When they broke apart, it was – of course – Poe who talked first.

“But of course you couldn’t wait for me to wake up, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> IF there's a 't' missing i'm sorry my keyboard pretty shit  
> so, hope you guys liked it :) i was trying to get everyone right, but if there was something that was totally off, do tell me please  
> also i'd love to have some feedback or advice or anything anyone wants to say so be sure to leave a comment  
> also thanks for reading #stormpilot


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